


destructive interference

by copperiisulfate



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Birthday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 11:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperiisulfate/pseuds/copperiisulfate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not entirely surprising that Munakata kisses like he fights, like he lives, with purpose, with care, and that little bit of obsession, little bit of danger, just around the edges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	destructive interference

**Author's Note:**

> Silly self-indulgent present to myself on the occasion of my favourite character's birthday and because I need to write more happy(ish) things in this fandom.

 

It’s behind some hole in the wall joint downtown that he lights Munakata’s cigarette and is asked just how he managed to escape Bar HOMRA on such a celebratory night (Munakata’s frilly words, of course, not his own).

Mikoto exhales and doesn’t pretend to misunderstand. Truth be told, he hadn’t really managed to escape. Izumo and Tatara had assailed him and made a toast on midnight the previous night and kept him up till four in the morning with their warm happy drunken laughter and strolls down memory lane as old video footage was projected upon his wall and even older photos littered his bed.

 _That_ bit was fine, welcome even.

This evening, however, was when people started filling the bar in droves and he’d had a headache even less than halfway into the night. Unfortunately, the Dresden slate had not granted him immunity to the sounds of terrible dance music or to Bandou's turn on the karaoke machine.

Fortunately, all he’d had to do was wait it out until Anna had enthusiastically helped cut the cake and then gone to bed an hour later. Following that, his night was his own. 

(That he had chosen to spend it at a bar where he was almost certain Munakata Reisi would show up is, well--he doesn’t  _really_ owe anyone an explanation for what he does on his own time, where he goes or whose company he chooses to keep. He could say his choice in company is a mystery to himself as well but that would be a lie and a half and he’s well aware.

Once, after a similar night, Izumo had eyed him knowingly and made some kind of a silly comparison to opposing magnet poles:  _they always find each other._ _It can’t be helped._

Despite getting more than his fair share of them, Mikoto hated to dwell upon all the things that couldn’t be helped. And so, it followed that he chose not to think too much about the implications of _this_ either.)

"You realize we’ve been talking for over an hour and you still haven’t wished me," Mikoto says into the air, feeling lighter now, bordering on playful. It’s the night air that does it to him and the distance between him and his part of Shizume city. It makes him feel less like the king of a clan and more like a kid on a rooftop.

Munakata sniffs at the air, “Don’t tell me you want me to sing you a children's song.”

"That would be something," Mikoto sighs, "but you always seemed like the kinda guy who would have a present at the ready, even for his enemies. _Birthday gift battou!_ Kinda disappointing, to be honest.”

“You are  _completely_  ridiculous.” He sounds like he’s talking to one of his minions but the way he bumps his shoulder against Mikoto’s softens it some.

This only encourages Mikoto further in his teasing. “Oh  _come on_ , Munakata. It only happens once a year.”

And he expects Munakata to click his tongue and scowl and maybe fling back something prissy and caustic about how he’s not under any obligations to please Suoh, even if it so happens to be his birthday. Put another way, he expects Munakata to be his same old boring self, nothing less, nothing more.

What he does not expect is the small sigh and an exasperated, “Well…I suppose you’re right.”

What he does not expect  _at all_  is Munakata turning towards him and pressing a kiss high up on his cheek. 

And he does not expect it enough that his cigarette drops from between his lips to the muddy ground.

He turns to face a Blue King who looks very pleased with himself, and before Mikoto can react further, Munakata’s kissing him again, square on the mouth. It’s soft, at first, but then Mikoto’s got the feeling of uneven bricks digging into his back and an armful of blue king pressed against his front.

It’s not entirely surprising that Munakata kisses like he fights, like he lives, with purpose, with care, and that little bit of obsession, little bit of danger, just around the edges. It’s little wonder that it takes Mikoto's breath away, makes him feel like it might never be enough, an intoxication of the absolute worst (best) kind.

Munakata pulls away, just a fraction of an inch. His glasses are askew and he says very serenely, “Don’t try too hard to process it. You might just hurt yourself.”

Mikoto laughs, a little dizzy, a little delighted. "Fuck you." _(Can’t be helped_ rings through his head, his hands deep in Munakata’s hair.  _We can’t be helped_. _)_

"Play your cards right," Munakata moves to whisper, close to Mikoto’s ear, "and maybe,  _maybe_.”

Mikoto slips a finger in the small space between the frame of his glasses and his temple, flicks once to displace them, smirks as they fall, even more crooked across the bridge of his nose before removing them completely.

He tucks them into Munakata’s hand and Munakata’s fingers close around his. 

"You know," Mikoto says, "I’m gonna remember you said that. So if you want to take it back…"

And Munakata smiles, quiet and contained like a secret, but it’s warmer than his politician smile, softer than his bureaucrat smile, and more genuine than any of the Blue King’s smiles. It's answer enough.

 

(This, Mikoto knows, is a nowhere moment; it is not supposed to exist in time.

It exists in spite of itself, like a small rebellion against the universe.

And hell, it's a good one.)

 


End file.
